Invasive Species
by IlliterateDude
Summary: The strong, the weak, the innocent, the guilty, all shall suffer, all of them. Their bloodshed will feed the Devourer of Worlds, feed the green barbarians. And for what purpose? What meaning is there to this slaughter? It is nothing. There is no purpose, no meaning. Murder. War. Cruelty. It is mindless. It is barbaric. This universe is mindless. LET THE GALAXY BURN!
1. Prologue chapter 1

Invasive Species: Star Wars and Warhammer 40k

Both franchises belong to their respective copyright holders, Disney and Games Workshop. I make no profit off of this. Please don't sue me.

Prologue Part 1

~I~

_It is the Forty First Millennium, for ten thousand years the Imperium of Man has endured, besieged from within and without by xenos and daemons from the darkness of the void and beyond. _

_Its enemies are without mercy and without number. Now, from beneath the shadows of a thousand lifeless galaxies, the Great Devourer descends, and the crumbling husk of the Empire of a Million Worlds stands powerless before it. _

_The universe however has a cruel and unfathomable sense of humor. Now, for the first time in ten millennia, the Imperium dares to hope. For it has glimpsed victory, respite from an eternity of slaughter and carnage, all at the expense of a galaxy far, far away. _

~I~

Coruscant, 19 BBY

Kilometers of flaming starship, mere tokens of the titanic battle raging above, stabbed through the atmosphere, crushing and immolating untold millions below. Swarms of fighters weaved madly through mile high skyscrapers, spewing laser and shrapnel indiscriminately. Clones and droid alike perished by the thousands in pointblank urban warfare, their burnt and mangled corpses clogging the streets.

Again and again, hundreds of battle droids trudged forward in impeccable formation, only to be scythed down by punishing volleys of blaster fire. Once more, the battle for Coruscant's XV-19872 sewage, water, and air processing facility continued anew.

Trooper Kyr-1055, spun on his heel as a blaster bolt took off the greater part of his shoulder armor. A throaty growl of pain issued from his mouthpiece as the bolt of superheated gas singed the skin of his shoulder. Another blackened and scorched crater to add to the veritable collection Kyr had collected on his armor from the past twenty hours of pitched conflict.

The clone noticed that his molten shoulder pad limited his ability to attain proper firing position. It had to go. He brutally tore the offending piece of armor from his shoulder, flesh and all.

A clone sergeant, Tyre-1033, gently tapped his uncooked shoulder pad. Kyr recognized it as a gesture of concern. It was unnecessary; the genetic progeny of Jango Fett were one of the most lethal fighting forces that had ever graced the galaxy. Pain, was something exclusive to other, lesser warriors. Trooper 1055 shook his head dismissively.

The sergeant nodded curtly and turned to address the gathered clone troopers with a harsh bellow. "Section CC One Alpha; counter charge those tin cans in docking bay three!"

Lesser soldiers would've acknowledged the order; CC-1055 and his cohorts did not. Clone troopers do not acknowledge orders; they obeyed them, without question. As one, the hundred troopers of Section CC One Alpha poured into the spacious and cluttered docking bay, guns blazing.

There was little cover to be found in the docking bay, save for the bodies of Kyr's brother clones and the cold metal chassis of the battle droids. One Alpha's rapid counterattack soon degenerated into a chaotic melee as the battle droids aligned themselves for combat.

Then the harsh roar of repulsor lift engines hacked through the din of the battle, and Kyr instinctively realized that the battle was lost. In a single motion the clone threw his rifle to the ground and bolted for whatever cover he could find. He spun behind a heavy metal crate just in time to see the hulking, circular frame of a Droid Heavy Missile Platform blot out the entrance to the docking bay.

Seconds later, a laser beam split him in two at his waist and 1055's upper torso tumbled to the floor in a smoking heap. In a millisecond his nervous system was overloaded at one of its most sensitive locations, the spinal cord. The searing agony of thousand degree Tibanna gas cauterizing flesh was never felt, for the clone did not feel any longer.

It was like watching a dream within a dream. He saw everything as shadows in the corner of his eyes; he heard everything like the whisper on the wind. Kyr no longer feared the Droidekas rolling out of the droid gunship; he no longer worried about the gunship's cannons reducing his brothers to smoking heaps of fused flesh and armor.

Kyr 1055 had finally found peace in a lifetime meant for war, perhaps-

"Mors Ab Alto Fraters!" [1]

The harsh, grating war cry dragged the wounded clone back to reality, each foreign, unrecognizable word charged with suggestive power.

He felt sparks of electricity run down his severed spine. He had never felt so alive, it was like the aura of the Jedi had come over him, only raw, violent, and unflinchingly focused. Every sound, every sight became clearer than he had ever thought possible, even those not within human perception. As if his very consciousness was expanding out of his body-

The droid gunship exploded in catastrophic fashion as dozens of crimson beams stabbed through its hull. Kyr winced as the heat of the fireball rolled over him, searing eyes, skin, and armor alike.

Slowly, painfully, he opened his eyes just in time to see angels of death descend. A dozen hulking armored figures in midnight black descended from the sky on wings of fire. With impossible grace and speed, they slaughtered what few droids and clones remained, the macabre winged skulls gilded onto their chest plates leering viciously all the while.

With howling chain blades, the warriors disemboweled. With titanic slug throwers they let loose fusillades of mass reactive rounds. A violently inclined observer would have noted that the resulting maelstrom of metal, flesh, blood, and oil was oddly mesmerizing.

However, one of the unknown warriors caught Kyr's attention, the glowing hood and less than subtle warping of the air around him set off alarm bells in Kyr's head. He instinctively knew that the hooded warrior was responsible for his newfound semi-prescience; he also knew instinctively that this….thing was not meant to be.

A hunch that was verified moments later as the hooded warrior shot snaking arcs of multi hued electricity from his fingertips, immolating a dozen Droidekas through their shields.

Clone and droid alike rushed to face this new, unknown threat, there was something inimically wrong with the newcomers. Something neither side was willing to find out first hand. Rocket launchers and thermal detonators were primed, blasters leveled. A dozen warriors, no matter how armored could not survive such firepower, they reasoned.

In the face of supposedly imminent death, the twelve warriors howled with laughter. The hooded one roared in defiance, his voice condescending and merciless, in halting, mechanical Basic.

"COME VERMIN. WE ARE THE DEATHWATCH. ONE OR A THOUSAND WE WILL SLAY YOU ALL!"

An unbidden question crossed the dying Clone's mind. What terror does death and suffering hold for those who have never known peace or hope?

All Kyr managed to glimpse before the slaughter began were blurs of speeding black armor. Unable to move, the amputated clone could only listen to the symphony of carnage around him. A cacophony of howling chainsaws juxtaposed onto a terrible crescendo of anguished screams and overloading electronics, accentuated by the resounding booms of bolt throwers. Then there was silence, broken only by the metallic clang of a battle droid chassis keeling over.

Kyr was the last one left alive; apparently the intruders thought the legless clone to be dead already. He saw the warriors gather at the entrance to the docking bay, sections of armor and paint scorched off, but still alive and well. Then they broke off and covered the entrances to the bay as a tramp freighter drew closer to the bay.

With a metallic thud, the ship landed with its loading ramp down. More midnight armored warriors marched down from the bowels of the ship, manhandling large armored boxes. Directing the efforts, a smaller, silver armored warrior bedecked with a stylized I on his chest plate, bellowed at the warriors.

The hooded warrior pried loose his helmet, revealing a larger than life human face seemingly sculpted from marble. The hooded warrior cast his gaze across the docking bay before settling on a certain legless clone.

Kyr's heart iced over.

How did he know? How?

Kyr waited with bated breath, waiting for the execution that would never come. The man flashed him a sadistic smile before promptly stomping away to join his brothers.

Wha- Why? He stuttered.

Then the clone noticed the forty odd metal containers that the warriors had left behind.

Slowly but surely, all of the containers were sliding loose with the unmistakable hiss of hydraulics. From within, something stirred, vicious snarling and desperate scratching emanated as many foul beasts raged for freedom. Kyr's eyes widened as impossibly long prehensile tongues and clawed appendages wriggled free of their metallic wombs.

So many limbs, too many limbs, so many voices, too many voices, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it st-.

Kyr 1055's horrified screams were drowned by the roar of the escaping freighter's engines but it was still heard. A timeless composite of animal hunger heard him scream, heard his bones crunch and flesh rip like wet paper.

And it slavered for more.

~I~

Foot notes:  
[1] Mors ab alto fraters - A rough Latin translation of "Strike from the skies brothers!"


	2. Prologue chapter 2

Part II.

~I~

The observer leaned in close, his gnarled hands folded under his chin as he stared through the cell's transparent steel windows. The cell itself was divided into two sections by a thick wall, dented and scratched by the respective occupants of the cells.

One contained a green barbarian, which raged, and thrashed, smashing its meaty fists against the windows and walls of the cell with reckless abandon, cursing and snarling with unbridled carnal desire for violence and war. In the other was a nightmare of genetic manipulation, a hunch backed monster of fangs, and claws, and slimy chitin. It too raged, but with monomaniacal purpose, with unyielding hatred, ramming itself against the bulkheads of the cell facing its Orkoid neighbor until the wall was coated with a thin film of purple ichor.

The observer's eyes narrowed as he watched the creature's face contort with anger, for he knew that the beast could not truly feel such an emotion. Any expression the Genestealer made represented naught more than the tugs of a puppet master's strings.

_Indeed, how could something that isn't whole feel?_ He wondered as he stared into its cold, lifeless, alien eyes.

But the observer wondered if he felt anymore, or whether he was merely a puppet of his hatred, his consuming obsession to see every last one of the Devourer's spawn put to the torch. He had seen the nightmare of the Octavius war; he saw minute Tyranid phage cells grappling with Orkoid spores, oceans of Orks and swarms of warrior beasts the size of nations grinding into each other without end, entire planets buried beneath compacted mountain ranges of corpses and wreckage, drenched in oceans of swirling ichor and blood as barbarian wrestled beast for supremacy.

He watched as the two factions fed off and re-used their own dead and war engines to continue the ever war in sick, hellish parody of the Terran legend of Valhalla, like a perpetual motion machine churning out death. Octavius was an ever-war, with no desire for peace, no desire for rest, only the mutual urge to carry out genocide on every scale and level imaginable.

And now, he had been restored to a position of honor amongst the Ordos Xenos, restored to the rank of Lord Inquisitor, for the sole purpose of unleashing such a cataclysm upon this peaceful and unsuspecting galaxy. A tear rolled down his parchment-like skin, dried and wrinkled with advanced age.

No one deserved such a fate. No one save for monsters like him.

But he must, he would not be in vain. The trillions he had already killed would not be in vain. There would be an accounting for his sins, but that mattered not. He was too far down the path to damnation for there to be any path but forwards. He was the hero of Tarsis Ultra, the architect of the Octavius War, the butcher of Tempestus, he was…

"Lord Kryptmann, astropaths report that Aquila Two has successfully delivered the package and is extracting from Coruscant" A voice boomed as a statuesque golden figure appeared behind him without warning.

"One such as you need not denigrate thyself by addressing me as lord, Chapter Master Dante." Kryptmann whispered hoarsely, his emotions swirling tumultuously in his chest.

"You are mistaken little man; I call you this out of respect for the rank, not the man." Dante said bitterly. "I have seen what transpired at Octavius, and I disagree with this lunacy. Luring the Tyranids here was one thing, but this…"

Kryptmann stared sadly at the living legend. "It must be done. This galaxy has many technological wonders, but they are soft, weak. The Tyranids will overwhelm them eventually, and feed. Only the Ork can drag them into a conflict that will leave this galaxy a shattered, burnt out husk the Hive Mind cannot gain from."

"We use the barbarian and the madmen to battle the beast, much like how the Emperor created his Angels of Death so that humanity may yet be spared the ravages of war." Kryptmann added, fishing for a reaction.

Dante's immaculate, noble visage fell visibly, the crushing weight of a millennium of war and atrocity and secrecy weighing heavily on his face. "You are closer to the truth than you could've ever imagined." He whispered hauntingly.

"I shall give the order to deploy the Ork capsules to this 'Corporate Sector Authority' of theirs. Let it not be said that I was too cowardly to make a stand on such a momentous event and may the Emperor preserve us all if your gamble damns us all." He said bitterly before storming out of the room, leaving the old man to wallow in his sins.

With a sigh, Kryptmann flipped a switch, filling both of the cells with burning napalm. As the creatures roasted and screamed, memories of burning Imperium cities and thick smoke heavy with human fat came to his mind.

_No more. Please._

~I~


	3. Prologue chapter 3

Eipok: The Imperium isn't really interested in or capable of conquering another galaxy given that their own home galaxy is a monstrous hell hole filled with extra dimensional demonic creatures and populated by countless psychotic, hyper-violent alien species. This is more a desperate attempt to get the Tyranids the fuck away from Terra and its empire. That being said, the Imperium will be influencing events in the Star Wars universe behind the scenes and running off with as much loot as possible.

Part 3. This one is more of an info dump though.

~I~

Thought for the Day: There is no right or wrong in our profession. The present changes the past from moment to moment. Only pray for the future to vindicate your action.

++BEGIN TRANSMISSION++

++CLASSIFICATION LEVEL: VERMILLION-EYES ONLY: UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS IS PUNISHABLE BY DEATH++

FROM: INQUISITORIAL LORD TERRAN  
TO: THE SENATORUM IMPERIALIS

++ORDER OF BATTLE++

I COMPANY, BLOOD ANGELS, COMMANDER DANTE/CAPTAIN KARLAEN – 123 ASTARTES  
IV COMPANY, BLOOD ANGELS, CAPTAIN CASTIGON – 130 ASTARTES  
III COMPANY, RAVEN GUARDS, SHADOW CAPTAIN KAYVAN SHRIKE – 119 ASTARTES  
BLOOD RAVENS CHAPTER, CHAPTER MASTER GABRIEL ANGELOS – 870 ASTARTES  
COMPOSITE ASTARTES STRIKE FORCE, CO UNDERTERMINED – 1500 ASTARTES  
ASTARTES BATTLE BARGES – 34 VESSELS  
ASTARTES STRIKE CRUISERS – 121 VESSELS

CHAMBER MILITANT ORDOS XENOS/DEATHWATCH – [REDACTED] ASTARTES  
DEATHWATCH BATTLE BARGES – [REDACTED] VESSELS  
DEATHWATCH STRIKE CRUISERS – [REDACTED] VESSELS  
INQUISITORIAL STORM TROOPERS – 117 REGIMENTS  
INQUISITORIAL BLACK SHIPS – 69 VESSELS  
INQUISITORIAL KILL SHIPS – [REDACTED] VESSELS

OFFICIO ASSASINORUM CLADES – [REDACTED]  
[REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED]  
[REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED]

ADEPTUS CUSTODES STRIKE FORCE - [REDACTED]  
[REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED]  
BATTLE BARGE BUCEPHALUS [1] – ALL HAIL THE MASTER OF MANKIND

ADEPTUS MECHANIC -

[ERROR: FILE CORRUPTED]

UNKNOWN XENOS WARP GATES – THREE STRUCTURES  
*PRELIMINARY DISCOVERY AND ANALYSIS BY BLOOD RAVENS CHAPTER AND FORMER KRYPTMANN REBEL FACTION INDICATES THREE STRUCTURES OF SOLID LIME STONE INEXPLICABLY CAPABLE OF WITHSTANDING MAIN LINE WARSHIP WEAPONRY. PRELIMINARY DATING INDICATES THAT THE STRUCTURES PREDATE THE SLANN AND THE ELDAR, POSSIBLE NECRON CONSTRUCTION CONSIDERED. NO DETECTABLE POWER SOURCES YET FOUND. TECH PRIESTS ARE UNABLE TO DISCERN HOW THESE SIMPLE LIMESTONE RINGS GENERATE INTERGALACTIC WORMHOLES. GATE ALPHA CONNECTED TO PARTNER IN THE DEEP CORE REGION OF THE GALAXY SECUNDUS. GATE BETA CONNECTED TO PARTNER IN GALAXY SECUNDUS'S RELATIVE NORTH EAST. GATE GAMMA CONNECTED TO A PARTNER OUTSIDE OF THE GALACTIC DISK TO THE WEST.

THE TYRANIDS HAVE FALLEN FOR THE BAIT. HIVE FLEETS DIVERTED INTO THE GAMMA GATE. KRYPTMANN'S PLAN HAS SUCCEEDED.

[ERROR: FILE CORRUPTED]

CONCLUSION: XENOS AND THINKING MACHINE INFESTATION IN GALAXY SECUNDUS AT INTOLERABLE LEVELS. EXTERMINATION RECCOMENDED

HYPERDRIVE USAGE IN HOME GALAXY DEMONSTRATES ONLY MODEST REDUCTION IN DAEMONIC INCURSIONS. NO DAEMONIC INCURSIONS YET REPORTED IN GALAXY SECUNDUS. TECH PRIESTS ARE INVESTIGATING. TRAVEL SPEEDS DECREASE DRASTICALLY WITH PROXIMITY TO WARP/REALSPACE INTERSECTIONS.

CONCLUSION: UNSUITABLE FOR LONG DISTANCE TRAVEL.

HOLO-NET TECHNOLOGY SHOWS GREAT PR-

[ERROR: FILE CORRUPTED]

AVE IMPERATOR

++END TRANSMISSION++

~I~

Pulled from the womb, bloody and already dying, a waking nightmare of flaring neurons and chemical electrons that burns and burns until naught is left but ash. An endless morass of overlapping dissonance that grinds against other discordant existences, screeching its mongrel supremacy until its inevitable, pitiful demise. The sound of existence was hideous to behold, it tasted of Chaos. I experienced it for a fleeting instant in the grand scheme of existence. No more.

Brief flickers of utterly alien experiences pass through the immensity of my being. The keening death wails of civilizations, creatures borne of nuclear fire screaming their rage into the depths of the void, aesthetic works immaculate and moving beyond mortal imagination. I cannot focus on them, for there are too many, I would surely come apart. They are discordant. They must be silenced.

I sense a new disturbance. They are like me, flesh and blood, yet not, they are discordant. I will silence them; I will make them sing with my choir of the consumed. We will sing together. There will be resonance, there will be solace.

"For Yun'Yuzhatar! AGGGH-"

"They're eating the world ships. By the gods, deliver us!"

"The Yuuzhan Vong never retr-"

"All is lost. All is lost! All—"

For a fleeting moment, an eye-blink in the eons of my existence, I am quenched by the blissful silence, by the resonant, sated chant of the choir.

There are words. A song without words?

It returns.

ORK ORK ORK ORK ORK ORK

Over and over

It is the single throbbing chant of a billion-billion throats. It too, is resonant like me, but it is jagged, unrefined, crude. Every repetition wracks my being, my choir with a wave of discord, it throbs with excruciating frequency.

I felt it spread. This cannot be. This must not be.

I detect yet more discord between myself and my quarry.

"Initiate Order 66"

"You underestimate my power, Obi-Wan Kenobi"

I will consume them too; make them sing in my choir of the consumed. It is inevitable, for I am a devourer. The greatest of devourers.

~I~

Author notes:

[1] Bucephalus. The personal battle barge of the God-Emperor. A reference to the legendary war horse of Alexander the Great.


	4. Prologue chapter 4

Chapter 4

TheLostGuy: I'm not planning on the Imperial Guard showing up given that the Imperial operations in this galaxy center around breaking in, wrecking shit up, and getting the hell out of dodge without anyone figuring out who they are. This is why there so many Inquisition and Space Marine assets, because they are fast and secretive, unlike the colossal, ponderous war-machine that is the Imperial Guard. That being said, I'll see if I can't fit a Crassus or two in the story.

I'm also a bit sad that no one is curious about how I'm going to shake up things in the Star Wars galaxy and make them more hardcore. :(

Everyone else: Thanks for the encouragement. Stay tuned!

As a further aside, these rather short chapters are part of the prologue as I've indicated in the first chapter, once we get to the time period where Episode IV: A New Hope begins the chapters will be significantly more meaty and long.

~I~

14 years later, 5 BBY

++BEGIN TRANSMISSION++

TO: SENATORUM IMPERIALIS

FROM: LORD INQUISITOR KRYPTMANN

My Lords,

As you are aware, the mission to Galaxy Secundus has become an astonishing success on multiple fronts. For your conveniences, a summary of the data tables and strategic calculations attached are as follows.

Item 1: Our initial projections for the rate of Orkoid expansion appear to have been grossly over-conservative. Already, the Orks have overrun large swathes of the North-eastern Outer Rim. Ork war fleets have been spotted at the edges of the Corporate Sector to the Galactic North East to the Northwestern section of the Outer rim near Mygeeto [Refer to table Iota-82]. I offer the following explanations for this unprecedented success in Xenos manipulation.

The selection of Orks from technologically inclined clans and castes and deployment of Orkoid technology samples along with the specimens appears to have paid off. The proportion of star faring and expansionary Ork tribes in this galaxy is significantly higher than that of the Orks in our Milky Way galaxy.

Secondly, the Orkoids in this galaxy have adopted, looted, and created crude approximations of hyper-drives with startling speed. This trend has most likely been facilitated by the technologically inclined nature of the local Ork populations. The strategic and tactical implications of this development are still being analyzed but it is sure to be less than comforting.

Thirdly, the use of Assassinorum agents has allowed Ork Warlords to consolidate large, unified power bases with incredible ease. The elimination of Warlords from weaker tribes by our agents has allowed several notable Ork Warlords [See: Document Alevus-Alpha] to gather Ork hordes of unbelievable scale.

Finally, the sluggishness of the Galactic Empire response has precluded the creation of any significant force to oppose the Orks. Our agents within the Imperial government have reported that the administration of Emperor Palpatine is more concerned with suppressing internal dissent and quashing potential coup d'etats [See Document Ajax-12] among his Moffs and Grand Admirals than with addressing the concerns of the border worlds. Particular attention has been given towards hunting down members of the "Jedi Order" and their affiliates. However, a New Order response to the Ork attacks is building, spearheaded by one Darth Vader, but it has been bogged down by the politicking of Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin and his obsession with enforcing public order among the mid rim territories.

As an unintended side effect of the Galactic Empire's inaction, our agents within the Alliance to Restore the Republic have reported that the faction has been gaining considerable material and popular support due to its humanitarian and military efforts against the Orks. The Rebel Alliance has now become a viable threat to the local supremacy of the Galactic Empire along the border regions. Tacticae suggest the requisition of more Callidus Shape-Shifter Assassins to infiltrate their ranks and use them to hasten the fall of the New Order. We await your approval.

Item 2: As we are all painfully aware of, the few Tyranid Hive fleets not engaged in total war with the Orks of our home galaxy or funneled through Gate Gamma have been demonstrating the usage of an organic analogue to the Hyper-drive. We fear that the Tyranids discovered such bio-technology along the western fringes of Galaxy Secundus. Indeed, expeditions to the "Unknown Regions" have encountered scattered bands of "Yuuzhan Vong" xenos refugees who use extensive bio-technology and have almost certainly encountered the Tyranids.

Tacticae suggests that the Tyranids could arrive in as few as six to eight standard Secundus years. This changes the strategic calculus significantly, and appropriate actions must be taken to ensure the ascendancy of the Orkoids. Tacticae suggests the following.

1. Deathwatch and Astartes forces be allowed to engage in limited strikes against high value Galactic Empire assets and installations

2. Rebel Alliance and other insurrectionist forces should be strengthened and re-directed away from the Orks and against the Galactic Empire. Material and financial support should be provided by Inquisition shell assets within Galaxy Secundus.

We await your approval

Item 3: Deeply embedded agents in the Imperial government have discovered that Emperor Palpatine is maintaining numerous top secret military research labs in the deep core. Several incomplete super weapon schematics have also been unearthed by Callidus Agents I-1990 and Aquila-2012. We are awaiting further information, but it is apparent that these weapons must either be seized or destroyed. Tacticae notes that the unused Gate Alpha is connected to a partner in the Deep Core, allowing us to bypass the garrisons on the few hyper space lanes into the region. Alternatively, standard warp drives may be used, but due to the high density of black holes and other lethal astrological phenomena in the deep core this is not recommended.

We will keep you informed as this particular situation develops.

Your humble servant

Inquisitor Kryptmann

++END TRANSMISSION++

~I~

Outer Rim Territories, Galaxy Secundus

War, the galaxy had known of it, but not like this, never like this. In war there were lines that were not crossed, things beyond destruction or reproach, honor to be upheld. Here, there was nothing, nothing beyond the screams, the savagery, the acrid stench of burning flesh and weapons fire. This was…

"WAAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHH!" A thousand voices screamed into the night, as white armored storm troopers emptied brilliant bolts of blaster fire into the distant darkness.

"Senior Captain! Sir! We shouldn't be this close to the frontlines, we need to displace to a safer location!" Commander Voss Parck protested, taking cover behind a ruined 2-M Repulsor-lift tank.

"These 'Orks' are an existential threat to this galaxy; it would be criminal not to understand their ways and how to defeat them." The Chiss Senior Captain remarked casually, peering through a set of magnoculars even as high caliber Ork bullets whizzed perilously close by. "Besides, do you not find it absolutely fascinating to see the adaptability of these creatures in action?"

"I'd find it more fascinating if we weren't in gun range of these profane creatures! So please sir, get down!" Voss yelled back over the sounds of Ork war shouts, gunfire, and explosions.

"I am in no danger, my good Commander. Simple analysis of the Orks reveals that they tend to shoot in circles around their targets. Look up, old friend" Thrawn stated nonchalantly, as a trio of TIE Bombers soared overhead.

Voss watched as the bombers unleashed fiery proton torpedoes into the onrushing horde of Orks as AAA guns released streams of insanely large caliber tracer fire at the bombers. Two of the bombers rolled to try and avoid fire and were immediately shredded in a cataclysm of hot metal and fire, while the third fighter continued in a straight line and gently pulled up and away, almost completely un-molested.

Thrawn continued on, entranced by the brutality of the warfare playing out before him. "I am unsure whether this is a conscious decision to weed out the cowardly or simply terrible shooting skills on the part of our green adversaries, but these creatures are so fascinating. They fear not death, they have no purpose; they revel in wanton bloodshed and excitement. Normal creatures seek power at the end of a war, an agreeable peace after the fighting. But not these creatures, to them war is not a means, but an end. Goals are but a means to an end, war. They are like a force of nature more than a species of sentient beings."

Thrawn's thoughts were interrupted as the mutilated, legless corpse of a Stormtrooper sailed directly overhead, replete with crude explosives strapped to it. Instantly, a squad of Stromtroopers were shredded into unrecognizable shreds of charred armor and meat a hundred meters behind the two officers.

Thrawn flinched somewhat at the carnage.

Composing himself, the Chiss stared out into the night sky, out at the cluster of stars in wild space where his home resided and whispered. "Palpatine will fail, I must remove him and save us, save us all."


End file.
